Fairytale of New York
by otherhawk
Summary: Late Christmas fic! Putting a con together on a moment's notice three days before Christmas? Well, *why* is it a bad idea?


**Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with Ocean's 11 or any wonders therein.**

**A/N: So, this is my Christmas fic. A week late. And, by the clock, ten minutes ago it became Christmas fic for _last _year. Sigh. Would say I fail when I come to deadlines, but this fic is, in fact, three times as long as I was expecting so, on that logic, should've been finished some time in February. Feel I should get credit for that.**

**Obviously enough, this is for InSilva. For many reasons. Including the fact that she asked for a Christmas fic involving a zoo and an octopus. Those well known festive octopuses. Making this the third least Christmassy Christmas fic ever, in this fandom anyway. Like I said, partly for that. Also for reasons of wonder and things that matter and not taking for granted and all those things. Happy Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy Anything Else You Like. ;)**

**Oh, and title from the Pogues song, obviously enough. And if anyone is interested, the NYPD don't actually _have _a choir. But if they did, they'd pretty much have to sing it, wouldn't they? **

* * *

"Fish!" Danny announced loudly, strolling into the apartment and looking at Rusty expectantly.

Rusty paused for a second, considering this, then he shrugged and opened the next window in the advent calender and ate the chocolate very, very slowly.

Licking his fingers casually, he looked up at Danny. "Uh huh," he nodded. "We making dinner plans?"

Danny was staring at the advent calendars with an amused frown. "You know you're supposed to limit yourself to one piece a day, right? That's what the dates are about."

Rusty affected a lofty expression. "I'm allergic to moderation," he proclaimed, eating the 23rd with enthusiasm.

"That explains a _lot," _Danny noted, nodding solemnly.

Huh. He glanced up sharply. "What?"

Pointedly, Danny glanced round the apartment. Rusty followed his gaze with a frown and looked at the eight foot tall tree, the masses of tinsel, the abundance of twinkling lights. The army of little gingerbread men. The forest of popcorn strings. The conflagration of candles.

"What?" he said again. "You said it would be nice if we decorated."

"Uh huh," Danny nodded. "But I'm not sure we've actually got any walls underneath all this."

"Christmas spirit, Danny," Rusty offered earnestly. "You _like _that. We're going to spend the next three days drinking egg nog and watching old movies, remember?"

"Yeah..." Danny shifted uncomfortably.

Rusty's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Fish," Danny said again slowly. "I've just come from seeing Jacques and he mentioned that he wished he could give his brother a platinum dragon fish for Christmas. And I said we'd oblige."

"Why can't he just buy it?" Rusty wondered. Obvious why Danny was worried. Three days wasn't exactly much time to work with.

Danny shrugged. "They're very expensive. Unbelievably rare. There's probably only a handful in the country."

"Well then," Rusty frowned. "I don't see - "

" - Amelia Forrester," Danny explained shortly. "She's got one in her private zoo."

Rusty blinked. "She has a private _zoo?" _He hesitated. "Does she have any camels?"

"I don't..." Danny pulled up short and stared. "Why do you want a camel?"

"Apparently their legs are on backwards," Rusty explained. Basher had told him so. But Basher had been very drunk at the time and Rusty hadn't been so certain what qualified him as a camel-expert anyway. So he was left with a certain amount of curiosity.

"Their legs are on backwards?" Danny considered this thoughtfully. "Can they do the can-can?"

Rusty shrugged. "Don't think they even look good in stockings."

"Anyway" Danny said eventually. "Amelia Forrester has a dragon fish and I've got us a way in. Apparently she always hires extra help at this time of year. We can be two of them. But we'd have to leave this morning."

Rusty bit his lip. "It's not really enough time, Danny," he pointed out gently. They'd be going in without a plan.

"I know," Danny said, looking nowhere in particular. "But Jacques asked. And three months ago...Jay Whitely...he never asked us for anything, Rus'. Wouldn't even hear it when I tried to thank him. I just want to do something for him."

He sighed. And he understood Danny's feelings, understood the gratitude. And since he was, in fact, sitting here with all of his favourite body parts still attached, he supposed he was more than a little grateful himself. "Alright then," he conceded, smiling at Danny. "What have you got?"

* * *

The household set-up, Danny explained in the car, was really exceedingly simple. Tom Forrester had been a self-made man. He'd started out selling pretzels on the sidewalk and had built his business emporium mostly by knowing _exactly _when to get out. When he died he'd been rumoured to be worth eight figures easy and he'd left behind four things that he cared about; his house; his collection of exotic animals; his son from his first marriage; and his new, much-younger wife.

He'd left the zoo to his wife, Amelia and the house to his son, Gordon on condition that Amelia be allowed to live there for the rest of her life.

"Wait, wait, wait," Rusty said with a frown. "You said the step-mother was five years _younger _than the son?"

"Uh huh," Danny nodded.

"Wow." Rusty blinked. "That must have been - "

" - I'd be willing to put money on it," Danny agreed.

"Okay," Rusty said after a pause. "Tell me about the house itself."

The house had been specially commissioned by Tom Forrester himself and it was a hotch potch of architectural genius and madness set in the middle of 30 acres of grounds. Inside was a labyrinth of hallways and priceless treasures just lying there.

"Not what we're going for," Danny reminded him, and Rusty grimaced.

"The zoo then," he conceded.

The zoo was set apart from the main house, a series of structures and buildings deep in the grounds. But, and this was an important but, they were all connected and further connected to the main house, the garage, the river and street level by a series of underground passages.

"Underground passages," Rusty said flatly.

"Yeah," Danny nodded.

"Who _was_ Tom Forrester?" he demanded. "Batman?"

Danny shrugged. "Not impossible."

"Right." Rusty sighed. "Right. And we get to be Alfred?"

There were about twenty staff who worked in the house and the zoo. And, at Christmas, half of them got time off and were replaced with another twenty seasonal workers, gleaned from a reputable agency. They all had credentials, of course. Immaculate references. Impeccable identities. All subject to the most rigorous security checks.

"Easy," Rusty said confidently.

"Easy," Danny agreed.

They'd be working in the Forrester house by the afternoon. And, two days later it would be Christmas Eve and Amelia Forrester's Festive Soiree. Surely the perfect distraction for any crime.

"What's the difference between a soiree and a party?" Rusty wondered.

Danny shrugged. "If we have to ask we'll probably never know."

* * *

Danny eyed the octopus suspiciously. And he was pretty certain that the octopus was eyeing him back. Though it was quite difficult to tell. Damn thing had blank eyes.

"Have you found the fish yet?" Rusty asked quietly from behind him.

He didn't look round, mostly because he was seized with the absolute conviction that if he turned round then the octopus would crawl out of the tank and develop Kraken-like ambitions. ""Not so far," he told Rusty softly.

Rusty frowned, pushed past him and bent over to examine the octopus. "Oh, she's _cute." _

Danny blinked. She? _Cute? _"Not a dragon fish though," he managed.

"That's not Holly's fault," Rusty told him absently, still gazing at the octopus in seemingly vacant wonder.

_Holly_?

Without looking round Rusty stabbed a finger at a little plaque on top of the tank. Huh. Apparently the octopus was indeed named Holly.

"Any luck?" he asked in a low voice, slightly reluctant to let the octopus overhear their plans.

Rusty was still entranced. "You know, they're supposed to be really intelligent. Apparently they can open jars."

Danny frowned, somehow unsettled. "_I _can open jars."

Rusty threw an odd glance at him. "What, you jealous?"

"Of a fish?" Danny asked mildly. "No."

"Good," Rusty said with a grin, "Because you know it's not like you're any _good _at opening jars."

"One time," he protested. "One time I had to ask you for help."

"That pesky jelly getting the better of you," Rusty commented and he was enjoying the memory way too much.

"Was trying to make _you _a sandwich," he pointed out sullenly. "And it's not like you got it open either."

"I did," Rusty told him indignantly.

"Oh, you cheated," Danny said firmly. "You used a cutting torch. The jelly was caramelised."

"And _delicious," _Rusty sighed.

"Uh huh. Remember what Basher said?" Danny said with a smile. "Apparently powerful flames are not a toy."

"He says that _now," _Rusty muttered. "He didn't say that when we were melting Alan Folger's wardrobe."

Danny found himself laughing softly at the memory. Good times. "Guess you got your sandwich anyway."

Rusty shrugged. "Might've been more fun with an octopus."

"Right." Danny shook his head and decided they'd probably be safer sticking to the subject. "So where are we?"

There was a definite grimace. "Nowhere," Rusty reported.

They were looking for a fish and they were looking for an exit plan and they had two days to find both. And the basic plan was that if it all turned out to be just too difficult they'd simply walk away instead, no harm no foul.

Yeah.

Like _that _was ever going to happen.

Danny had spent the last several hours shifting boxes of feed around the zoo and polishing tanks in the aquarium, while Rusty had managed to get himself assigned upstairs to the main house to help with the decorations. Having seen their own apartment, of course, Danny wasn't so very sure that was the best idea in the world. But it hadn't been his, it had been Aaron Reid's. Their morose supervisor who, according to Rusty's hushed assessment and Danny's silent laughter, looked _exactly _like a snowman who had just started melting.

"No sign of the fish," he reported, "Though there's still a couple of rooms I haven't checked yet, and there's absolutely no exit from the zoo. There's a door on the lower corridor leading to the house, but it needs a code - "

" - which we haven't got - " Rusty interjected.

" - and it runs past the wine cellars and to street level - "

" - and there's a crocodile in the basement," Rusty finished.

Danny paused. "A _crocodile?"_ he checked incredulously.

Rusty shrugged. "Might be an alligator, apparently."

And that wasn't any better. "An _alligator?"_

"Can surely only be a matter of time before it escapes into the sewers and joins its alligator brethren, living on mole-people and investigative journalists," Rusty told him gravely.

"Seriously. An _alligator?" _

"It's part of the zoo. Got its own enclosure and everything," Rusty explained.

"Bags I not be the one to feed it," Danny muttered. "You got anything?"

"Well, one good thing, apparently Amelia Forrester is in the habit of using the small animals in her collection as decorations. So all the tanks are self-contained. Heating, filters, whatever. We won't need to worry about moving the fish. The rest..." Rusty shook his head. " No way we take the tank out the main house without being noticed," he said with a frown. "Too many windows, too many corridors. I think out best hope is the underground corridor. We need the code."

"Who'll have it?" Danny wondered. "Amelia and Gordon Forrester, right?"

"The butler," Rusty listed, and they didn't know him and they hadn't seen him. "Aaron Reid?"

They exchanged a doubtful glance. "_Probably," _Danny said slowly. "Who wants to get close to him?" He didn't look like an easy man to get close to.

Rusty shrugged. "See how it works out," he said hopefully. He smiled at Danny suddenly. "You were in the zoo?"

"No camels," Danny said wearily. "Couple of lynxes, a tapir, a whole load of parrots and a flock of impalas."

Rusty blinked. "A flock of...?"

Danny shrugged. "A bunch, then. A load. What do I know?"

"In the _zoo?" _Rusty sounded about as puzzled as Danny had ever heard him.

"Yeah," he said with a frown, not really seeing the problem.

"What were they doing there?"

"Just sort of leaping around, impala-like."

They stared at each other for a long moment, absolute confusion written on their faces.

"Chevrolet Impala," Rusty said finally. "'s a car."

"These impalas are sort of like antelopes," Danny explained. "Like Bambi."

"Bambi was a deer," Rusty corrected immediately.

"But he wasn't a car," Danny said patiently.

Probably fortunately they were interrupted by the loud arrival of Aaron Reid with a couple that Danny presumed to be Amelia and Gordon Forrester.

Quickly, he and Rusty tried to look busy, efficient and productive. Aaron Reid still scowled at them, possibly just on principle. Amelia Forrester's gaze travelled over their heads like they were completely beneath her notice. And Gordon Forrester...Gordon glanced over at them absently and then blinked, did a double take, nearly dropping his coffee cup, and stared at Rusty like he was the most unexpected thing he'd ever seen. Danny gritted his teeth. Perfect. Just...perfect.

"Reds and golds," Mr Reid," Amelia said haughtily. "Fish, frogs and lizards. Nothing too large or too vulgar. I don't want any guests to be upstaged by the creatures."

"Yes, madam," Aaron said obediently.

Gordon Forrester turned round to face Amelia, tearing his eyes away from Rusty with an apparent effort. "Amelia, I really still don't see why you had to fire Jenny. She was _my _secretary, not yours."

"She was a gold-digger and an embarrassment," Amelia told him levelly, before looking back at Aaron. "I'm looking for six or seven different tanks. Try and find anything shiny or glittery."

Aaron Reid looked a little doubtful. "I'll do my best, madam."

"Jenny was very good at her job! She was the best secretary I've ever had. _Mother - "_

" - _Don't _call me that, Gordon," Amelia snapped. "Jenny's skirts were too short and her tops were too low. She was cheap and tarty, _obviously _hanging out for a rich husband."

"Well, even if that was true, we both know that nothing was ever going to happen, so it doesn't matter," Gordon insisted. "If you want me to organise your Christmas ball, I need help."

Amelia's lips narrowed and Danny got the distinct impression that she wasn't used to Gordon or anyone else standing up to her. "You can have anyone you want as a secretary, Gordon. As long as she isn't a blonde, leggy tramp."

"Fine," Gordon said shortly, and he quickly marched over to where Rusty was carefully polishing a tank full of sea urchins, slamming his cup down on the shelf next to Rusty's head. "You! Do you know shorthand."

Oh, that was unexpected. That was seriously unexpected and Danny didn't know if he liked it one bit. Still, Rusty didn't know shorthand, so nothing could come of it, and that was probably good. Too many unknown factors and they didn't want to be noticed.

"Yes," Rusty said, turning round and smiling at Gordon.

What?

"Uh, oh, that's...that's good," Gordon stammered before pulling himself together. "You're my new secretary."

Amelia Forrester looked over Rusty slowly, her nose wrinkled unpleasantly and Danny gritted his teeth.

There was no part of this situation that he liked.

* * *

Aaron Reid kept Danny busy for the rest of the day. Having been in the room at the time, Danny was obviously the first on the list to help find decorative fish for the Christmas Ball. He found himself carrying every tank that contained something red, gold or shiny upstairs, while Aaron Reid walked behind him, scowling and staring at him and at the fish, like he was afraid something was going to happen, Danny had no idea what.

"So, how long have you been working here?" he asked Aaron brightly, as he lifted a tank full of red-eyed puffers which, he couldn't help but notice, weren't noticeably red, gold, shiny, or in any way festive.

Aaron grunted. "Few years."

"Huh," Danny nodded. "You must like it here. It's a nice job, I guess. Lots of animals. You like animals?"

"Keep your mouth shut," Aaron said shortly.

Danny nodded and didn't say anything else. The whole get-close-to-Aaron-Reid plan was not showing any noticeable chance of success. He could only hope that Rusty was getting on better.

"When you've finished with that, we'll go after the chameleon," Aaron said suddenly.

Right. Danny kept his face blank. His shoulders were beginning to ache. His arms were hurting. And his back wasn't going to last forever.

Fuck, he'd had better Christmases.

* * *

Rusty had seen the way Gordon was looking at him, same as Danny had. But he hadn't seen any actual _intentions. _Just aesthetic appreciation. And he knew how to handle _that, _and since getting close to Gordon gave them a whole new way of getting the door code, it seemed worth it.

Silently, he followed Gordon up the stairs and out of the zoo towards the main house. Gordon didn't say a word the whole time. Angry, Rusty surmised. Very angry if he had to guess, and he accepted the notebook and pencil that was shoved his way and he spent the next couple of hours standing at Gordon's elbow, scribbling quickly, as he moved from room to room and rattled off a series of orders and instructions for later.

Rusty couldn't help but notice that every time Gordon actually gave any of the servants an order, they all looked doubtful and muttered something along the lines of "Well, I'll need to check with Mrs Forrester." Every time Gordon's lips tightened a little and then he seemed to just sigh and give up.

Eventually, Gordon stepped into a small study and slumped down behind a desk. Rusty hovered in the doorway, wondering what to do. Obviously there was some kind of routine he wasn't aware of; there was a coffee set waiting on the sideboard; steam still rising. With a shrug, he poured a cup and brought it over to Gordon and laid it at his elbow.

Gordon looked up at him, clearly startled. "Thank you..." he said, uncertainly, and then he took a sip and stared some more. "How did you know how I take it?" he demanded.

Rusty met his gaze evenly. "Guessed," he said. Actually, the cup that Gordon had left in the aquarium had clearly contained milk and sugar residue. About the amount of sugar that Rusty would expect to be left behind by someone who took two sugars and didn't stir well enough. The only guesswork had been in presuming that Gordon had liked the coffee.

"Right," Gordon said, clearly a little disbelieving. He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about all this. I know I just threw you in the deep-end here and it's honestly not like me. It's just Amelia firing Jenny like that...not even _telling _me she was going to...she makes me so _angry. _Do you have any idea how annoying it is when someone's always cool and calm?"

Oh, yes. He really did. Normally, he was the one using it to his best advantage. He smiled sympathetically. "It must be difficult," he agreed.

"About the only time I ever get a reaction is when I call her 'mother'," Gordon went on. "She _hates _that." He suddenly grinned mischievously up at Rusty. "I make sure to do it as often as possible."

Rusty grinned back. "Quite right too," he approved.

"It's not just Amelia though," Gordon sighed. "It's everyone. I _own _this house. I pay everyone's wages. And they all answer to her. I even pay your wages, you know."

Didn't bother Rusty any; he wasn't planning on sticking around long enough to get paid. "You should try and be more authoritative, Mr Forrester. Sir." he added.

"Gordon, please," Gordon corrected absently. "And I know, I know...but it's easier said than done."

"Yes," Rusty agreed evenly. "It is."

Gordon looked up at him in startled considerment. He laughed slightly. "Listen to me, going on at you like this. I don't even know your name."

"Leo," Rusty told him. "Leo Stone."

"Well, Leo – it is alright if I call you Leo, isn't it?" He waited for Rusty's nod. "Why don't you pour yourself a cup of coffee, sit down and tell me all about yourself."

* * *

The room was small and sparsely furnished – a couple of narrow beds, a wardrobe, a sink, a mirror and that was about it. But it _was _warm and it was scrupulously clean and someone had even made an attempt to make it look Christmassy, hanging tinsel across the mirror. They had indeed stayed in worse places. Many worse places.

The only problem, Danny thought, was that there was no TV. And he hadn't thought to bring anything to read. And even that wouldn't have been any kind of problem, if it wasn't for the fact that what the room _mostly _was, was Rusty-less. It wasn't that late, not really, and most of the servant's were still gathered in the lounge downstairs watching TV, but Danny hadn't seen Rusty since he went off with Gordon Forrester. And Danny might _know _he was worrying needlessly, but that didn't actually take away from the part where he was worrying.

Rusty finally walked into the room about five minutes before Danny decided that he was going to head out and start searching.

Glancing over at where Danny was lying – perfectly and absolutely calmly – on top of his bed, Rusty sighed. "Feeling lonely?" he asked lightly.

"Something like that," Danny agreed readily. "Everything okay?" Everything looked okay. Mostly. More or less. There was something...he didn't quite know what it was but it was none of the things he'd been worried about.

"Yeah," Rusty agreed. "Think I'll be able to get the code for the door no problem."

"And Gordon didn't try anything?" Danny asked, just a little anxious but not really that serious.

Rusty rolled his eyes. "Turns out I'm entirely resistible. Think he just wants someone to talk to, really."

"And do his shorthand," Danny added.

"Yeah."

Danny had to stare a little. But then again, he supposed, he shouldn't be surprised that he could always be surprised. "So how do you know shorthand?"

Rusty blinked over at him and then grinned. "Danny..." he complained, laughing, and he threw Danny a notebook.

Danny looked at it carefully. Pages of seeming meaningless scribbles. "Okay..." he said, puzzled. "I have no idea what this says."

"It doesn't say anything," Rusty told him simply. "I don't know any shorthand."

"You don't..._oh." _Danny suddenly understood. "He talks, you scribble something down - "

" - and later on, when he asks, I put what he said into longhand." Rusty nodded. "Exactly."

"I see that now," Danny said with dignity.

"What, you think that I've been moonlighting as a secretary?" Rusty asked, just a little too amused.

Danny couldn't let that one go. "You _are _moonlighting as a secretary, he pointed out. "While some of us are working hard for a living." The groan of pain when he stretched wasn't all feigned, and the genuine look of sympathy that came his way was at least a little bit mollifying.

"You alright?" Rusty asked.

"I am not built for manual labour," Danny said seriously, and he smiled a little as Rusty sat on the bed next to him and started rubbing his aching shoulders. "Found the fish, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Danny nodded, rolling onto his front and letting Rusty work. "'S pretty. Fish like. Third room in the aquarium. Centre tank on the right. Nothing else in there."

Rusty paused momentarily in his ministrations. "Do fish get lonely?"

Danny shrugged, and it didn't hurt as much as it would have a moment ago. "Maybe Jacque's brother can find it a friend."

"We need to get a better picture of the lay-out," Rusty said abruptly.

Danny nodded. Made sense. They had bits and pieces, but neither of them had an over-all picture. He listened to the noises that were still coming from downstairs. "Few more hours."

* * *

A few more hours and they were moving silently down the underground corridor from the main house to the zoo. They had managed to build up a comprehensive understanding of the main house, Rusty was sure. He'd already known some of it, but now he knew how the servant's quarters linked in, where all the bedrooms were, all the stairways leading to the ballroom...he felt convinced that, at the very least, if the shit hit the fan they knew which way to run.

And so now they wandered into the zoo, trying not to disturb the animals - or anyone else – and started from the top, working their way down. Learning every room, every exit, every window and everything that could be useful in every circumstance, imaginable or not.

The top floor was all birds. And, they were all asleep, which was just as well. They didn't get as much as a squawk as they crept their way through.

"Can see why no one uses a parrot as a watchdog," Rusty commented softly.

Danny nodded. "Just as well. Can you imagine explaining that you were breaking into a house and you got your leg savaged by a cockatoo?"

"They're pretty though," Rusty said, glancing at something blue and yellow and iridescent.

Danny followed his gaze. "Don't you have a shirt like that?"

"Yeah," Rusty nodded. "It's – "

" - pretty?" Danny raised an eyebrow.

Rusty glared at him.

With a good idea of what went where, and at least two handy windows that looked useful for absolute emergencies, they moved downstairs to the reptile house. It was hot and muggy and it was difficult to say whether anything was awake at all. Certainly nothing was moving.

Danny was staring at one particular wall of tanks. "That's a lot of frogs..."

Rusty took a look. It was. An awful lot of frogs. All small and purple. "They're probably poisonous," he said.

"Huh," Danny took another look. "I'll be sure to make sure not to stick one in my mouth."

"They might be hallucinogenic," Rusty added. He'd read a National Geographic a few years back in a doctor's waiting room.

Danny frowned. "And that's supposed to _discourage_ people from eating them? I can see the flaw in this plan."

There was nothing of interest in the reptile house at all. Least of all the reptiles. They wandered down the stairs and Danny led him to the right fish. It looked pretty much exactly like the one in the picture they'd seen. And there was a little plaque that proclaimed it to be a platinum dragon fish. Called Sissy.

"Who names a fish Sissy?" Rusty wondered.

Danny shrugged. "There are stranger names."

He measured the distance between the room where the fish was and the corridor with the door to the outside. "We'll need to be sure there are no interruptions," he said.

"Everyone will be at the ball," Danny pointed out.

"We might want a bigger distraction," Rusty mused. "Just in case."

Danny looked thoughtful and that was when they heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Quickly, they ran towards the far wall and Rusty shoved Danny forwards, bundling him under the shelf and behind the wall of tanks, and Danny pulled him in afterwards. They exchanged a quick glance. Time to be very, very quiet.

As they watched, Aaron Reid came down the stairs, holding a bottle of beer. He was smiling. On him, the expression looked odd.

"Here, fishies, fishies," he crooned, and Rusty bit his lip to keep himself from laughing.

Aaron stepped forwards and leaned himself against Holly the octopus' tank. "Ah, you're beautiful," he moaned, and he started rubbing himself up and down against the tank.

Rusty turned round and stared at Danny, mostly trying to persuade himself that he wasn't seeing what he thought he was seeing. Danny's eyes were wide and he was staring, and when Rusty turned back round, Aaron Reid's pants were round his knees, and he was staring hungrily at a tank full of clownfish while his hand moved frantically up and down.

"Oh, that's not _right," _Danny muttered into his shoulder.

"Different strokes for different folks," Rusty whispered brightly and he tried not to giggle at the expression on Danny's face.

"Well it's _different,"_ Danny agreed, as Aaron Reid dipped his hand into the fish tank and then back down.

They managed to avert their eyes until Aaron was finished and they sat absolutely still for a long while after Aaron had pulled his pants back up and stumbled out of the aquarium.

"You ready to call it a night?" Rusty asked eventually, doing his best to keep his voice and face absolutely neutral.

Danny nodded quickly. "I may never eat seafood again."

* * *

The Christmas ball apparently took a lot of last minute organising, and Rusty spent the morning following Gordon around as he considered the decorations, inspected the kitchens and tried to get every last detail right. Rusty's job was pretty easy, really. He remembered anything that Gordon told him to and answered Gordon's phone, fielding apparently random changes to the guest list and social invitations for the next six months with ease. Whatever he was doing, it seemed like Gordon felt he was doing it right. And that was good. Though he still hadn't got the door code.

Like yesterday, Rusty found himself watching Gordon's other employees walk all over him. For the most part, things weren't done right, they were done easy, and he could see how Gordon hated it.

That might be why, when the condescending caterer rolled his eyes and told Gordon that they were only delivering one hundred cup cakes instead of five hundred, and he could see Gordon preparing to nod meekly and accept, Rusty felt that he'd done the quiet and unobtrusive thing long enough.

"Listen, _sir," _the caterer said. "It's not my fault that you didn't order them right now, is it? I know it's easy to blame the working man, but really, you guys who've had everything handed to you on a silver plate just have no idea."

"I know, I'm sorry - " Gordon began, and that was when Rusty had had enough.

He stepped forwards and smiled at the caterer. "Listen," he glanced at the nametag, "Sam, let's be absolutely clear here. The cakes were ordered correctly, weren't they?"

The caterer frowned and started to protest and Rusty showed a few more teeth.

"Weren't they?" he repeated, and he was speaking softly but he made sure that the hard edge was fully visible.

It didn't go unnoticed. "Yes," the caterer admitted sullenly.

"Your company made a mistake, didn't they?" he persisted.

"Yes," the caterer snarled.

"That's what I thought." He smiled brilliantly. "Now, what are you going to do about this mistake? I mean, obviously, a company like yours has a lot of reputation at stake. It would be terrible if word got around that you couldn't honour your contracts, wouldn't it?"

The caterer went pleasingly pale. "You wouldn't do that!" he protested.

Rusty tilted his head to one side. "Whatever makes you say that?" he wondered.

"Alright, alright!" the caterer exclaimed. "There's...I'll be able to get you more cakes. But they'll be apple, not lemon."

"Apple," Rusty repeated. That was fine with him. He liked apple cake. "Is that alright with you, sir?" he asked, turning to Gordon respectfully, and he could tell that Gordon hated the 'sir'. Wasn't the point.

"Yes, I'm sure that will be fine, Leo." And Gordon managed to sound condescending and disinterested. Huh. Not a bad actor.

"Good." Rusty turned back to the caterer and smiled. "Off you go then. Oh, and I rather think that a discount is in order, don't you? Goodwill, and all that?"

"Yes sir, certainly sir," the caterer muttered, and he scuttled out of the room.

"How did you do that?" Gordon asked as soon as they were ensconced in the study.

Rusty shrugged. "It's just a matter of knowing how to talk to people. Normally I wouldn't, but that guy was trying it on. He knew walking in here that it was his mistake, not yours."

"Right," Gordon smiled. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in a permanent job, would you?" He tried to make it sound like a joke. Rusty could tell it was a genuine question.

"Sorry," he said and he sounded regretful. "I'm really not interested in settling down anywhere right now."

"Of course, of course," Gordon nodded, busying himself with the papers on his desk. "You're young yet." He paused, and Rusty could tell there was something else. It didn't take long. "Um, Leo? I was wondering...and please don't feel obliged, it's just that...I was wondering if you might consider attending the ball tomorrow evening?"

Rusty blinked, not quite sure what to say. He would have sworn that that absolutely was not the way that Gordon's thinking was running. "Listen, Gordon, I'm flattered, but - "

" - Oh, that's not at all what I meant," Gordon cut in, looking embarrassed. "Oh, not that you're not...because you _are, _I mean, you must know that, and if I was twenty years younger, I'd probably...be sitting in the corner afraid to talk to you. But really, you're not my type. I promise I'll be the perfect gentleman."

Rusty laughed slightly. "Okay, what then?"

"It's just that these things are really dull. It's all Amelia's friends, not mine. And I have an official date, but me and Katie have an understanding with these matters. I'd just like having someone else there, that's all. And you might enjoy it?"

Gordon was looking at Rusty hopefully. And really, attending the ball as a guest was in no way the sensible thing to do. Not even close. Trouble was, Rusty thought, looking at Gordon, here was a puppy who had been kicked a few times too many. And Rusty wasn't sure that he could bring himself to offer any more rejection.

"I'd love to," he smiled instead.

Oh, he wasn't looking forward to telling Danny about this.

* * *

The problem with Aaron Reid's late night activities – other than _everything – _was that Danny had to actually look him in the eyes the next morning and pretend that he had absolutely no idea. And he was good enough that there was no way that Aaron should be looking at him any differently...but he couldn't help but notice that Aaron kept staring at him all morning. He was feeling more than a little awkward.

And he was set to work, cleaning out the bird cages under Aaron's watchful eye, and there was absolutely no conversation. Whatever he said, Aaron just grunted in response.

He hoped Rusty was doing better. And he hoped fish-boy would leave him alone sometime soon.

* * *

"I have some friends coming round shortly," Gordon told him after Rusty had finished explaining to the footmen exactly how the fairy lights actually _could_ be set up the way Gordon wanted them. Without anyone falling off any ladders. "Jerome and his...partner...Toby. Please, don't take Toby seriously. He's a little much, but he's nice enough when you get to know him."

"Okay," Rusty nodded, wondering exactly what Gordon considered too much.

He knew shortly afterwards, when Toby pulled Gordon into a tight hug the moment he was in the door. "Gordon! You're looking wonderful! I thought you'd be pining like a love-sick puppy!"

"Nice to see you again, Gordon," Jerome grinned, coming in a step behind. He was a tall man, around Gordon's age in a sober suit. Toby, on the other hand, was at least a decade younger. Rusty would put him in his mid thirties, and his long black hair was actually braided with tinsel. He was wearing a dark purple shirt with twisting lines of silver embroidery shot through it and Rusty had the terrible desire to ask him exactly where he'd got it.

"And who's this?" Toby demanded, catching sight of him. "Oh, my, no wonder you're not pining. Jerome, Gordon's been holding out on us. He's got a shiny new boy-toy."

Rusty's smile was decidedly fixed. Gordon just looked embarrassed. "Toby, Jerome, this is my new confidential secretary, Leo Stone."

"Temporary secretary," Rusty corrected, shaking hands. "Nice to meet you."

"He's so _cute!" _Toby announced. "How old are you, kid?"

"Twenty five," Rusty told him.

Toby whistled. "That old! My, my. You could pass for eighteen, easy, cuteness."

He wasn't sure why he'd want to. And, visions of Danny-laughter in his head, he took refuge in his role. "Can I get you and your guests anything, Mr Forrester?"

"Mr Forrester!" Toby squealed.

Gordon looked a little sympathetic. "A bottle of wine, I think. Red. The Chateau Haut-Brion, if you can get it. I'm afraid the butler tends to be a little protective. He'll probably want to check with Amelia first."

Huh. An opportunity. "It's your wine though, right?" he asked, innocently.

Toby's eyes were wide. Jerome was looking at him thoughtfully.

"Yes, it is," Gordon agreed stiffly.

"Then why do I need to ask the butler?" he wondered. "Why don't I just go there and find it for you myself?"

Jerome was smiling. "The boy makes a good point, Gordon."

"It would be difficult to explain if someone saw you," Gordon said, wavering.

Rusty shrugged. "I could use the side door," he suggested.

"Alright then," Gordon decided suddenly. He scribbled something down on a piece of paper. "Here's the code."

Rusty smiled with perfectly hidden triumph and snuck off. Took him a while to find the right wine, but eventually, he came back to find that while he'd been gone, Toby had found the sherry.

"Your cute boy-toy has brought the wine!" Toby announced, glancing over to where Gordon and Jerome were gazing out the window.

Gordon glanced up. "Thank you, Leo," he smiled.

Toby was staring at him. "You know, you really are cute. But you could be cuter, I think. Gordon have you got any scissors...?"

* * *

It was late when Rusty stumbled into their room, and Danny sat up straight and stared. "Your _hair..."_

"Don't ask," Rusty said shortly, and he looked in the mirror and groaned. "I look fluffy."

He did. He really, really, did. Fluffy and with little platinum highlights and reddish tips. "What happened?" he asked, grinning.

"Gordon has a friend who thought I could be cuter."

"Oh, you definitely look cuter," Danny agreed and he almost, _almost _wished he hadn't at Rusty's withering glare. "It makes you look younger," he offered. And like someone else.

Rusty's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How _much_ younger?"

Danny pursed his lips. "You might want to take your ID the next time you go to a bar," he said solemnly.

Rusty groaned and threw himself down onto the bed dramatically. "I didn't sign up for this," he said seriously.

Grinning, Danny shook his head. "Other than that, how was your day?"

"81624B," Rusty told him. "Code for the door." And there was something in his voice...there was something else.

Danny sat up. "What?"

Rusty sighed. "I like Gordon, Danny. I really do. He's a nice guy who's never gone anywhere in life."

Oh. That was difficult. "We're not robbing him, Rus'," he pointed out gently. "We're robbing Amelia."

"Yeah..." Rusty still sounded unhappy."He invited me to the ball. And I said yes."

"_What?" _Danny demanded. That wasn't part of the plan. That wasn't part of any plan.

"Could help us," Rusty went on. "If I was inside, we'd know when the best moment to move was."

It was true. He couldn't deny it. "Just be careful, Cinderella," he warned.

"You afraid I'm going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight?" Rusty asked with a grin.

"I'm afraid _Gordon_ is going to turn into an octopus," Danny shot back.

* * *

Christmas Eve morning and they had a few hours to themselves. Which was just as well; they had things to do.

Rusty dropped Danny off outside Sid's place. Danny squinted back in the car window and, for the twentieth time that morning, made absolutely no comment on the hat. "You sure you're okay doing the Father Ogilvie on your own?" he checked.

"Uh huh." Rusty smiled. "You sure you're okay with Sid?"

Fair point. He sighed. "Meet you back here in an hour or so," he said.

Sid had come through for them wonderfully. The van was everything they'd asked for. It looked like a nondescript catering truck and the inside was heated and with a secure space for holding something absolutely still and safe. Perfect, in other words, for transporting a tropical fish tank.

The whole transaction took barely twenty minutes. Which left him kicking his heels for another ninety while he waited for Rusty to come back.

And, when Rusty did turn up and get out of the car, he was limping noticeably.

"The con go alright?" Danny asked, worried, as Rusty climbed into the van.

In answer, Rusty held up a box. Right. Well. That was good.

"What happened to your leg?" Always worth trying the direct approach.

"Christmas shoppers," Rusty explained.

There was a pause, and Danny looked at him, patient and waiting.

"Got hit on the knee by an old lady's frozen turkey," Rusty expanded further.

Oh. Right.

"Jacques' brother had better appreciate all this," Rusty muttered.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by slowly as far as Danny was concerned. Slowly and in a steady stream of menial labour. Danny was bored _and _exhausted, all at once

He hadn't needed to get close to Aaron Reid anymore. But, unfortunately, no one had told Aaron that. Aaron, apparently, had decided that Danny needed to be kept a watchful eye on. He didn't think that Aaron suspected him of anything, exactly. If anything he would guess that Aaron thought that he might slack off if given the opportunity. Well. It _was _possible.

At any rate, Aaron seemed downright chatty. "You're not the type we normally get passing through here," he said as he stood behind Danny, watching him changing the light fittings in the reptile house.

"Really," Danny answered politely.

"No," Aaron told him. "There's something different about you. Something...exotic." He paused, breathing heavily and Danny muttered something about needing to get a longer ladder and vanished off to the store room. Oh, that had very nearly been extraordinarily disturbing.

He just about managed to avoid Aaron for the rest of the day, right up until an hour before the ball was about to start. The time all the seasonal workers were supposed to head up to the kitchens in order to fetch, carry and clear dishes. The time, he guessed, that Rusty would be getting dressed, checking his hair and putting on his glass slippers. Not that Danny was _annoyed _exactly_. _Just the way the cards had fallen. Wasn't anyone's fault that Rusty got to go to a party while Danny was expecting to spend the evening up to his elbows in potato peelings. That was just the way it worked out. No blame, nothing to be done...and Danny was definitely going to find some way of making Rusty's life miserable in the New Year for at _least_ ten whole minutes.

It was when he was getting ready to follow the others upstairs that Aaron called him back. "Here. You. I need you to stay behind and help me this evening."

Danny turned round slowly and hesitated. He was supposed to meet Rusty upstairs in four hours. And while he knew he could sneak away from the kitchens no problem, he didn't know that getting away from Aaron would be so easy. "Ah, I think they're expecting me in the kitchens? I'm supposed to - "

" - they won't miss you," Aaron told him firmly.

They wouldn't. Rusty would. But Aaron was staring at him and Danny couldn't think of any excuses that would work. _Particularly _when all that was _actually _in his head was a vision of Aaron standing there with his pants around his ankles and a fish in his hand. "Okay," he agreed unhappily.

"Good," Aaron smiled at him strangely. "I want to get some things moved around in the aquarium. Come on. Follow me."

Without seeing any choices Danny obeyed.

* * *

It was Rusty's considered opinion that this was a _really _boring party.

He followed Gordon around, sipping slowly from a glass of champagne and listening to excruciatingly inane small talk. Somehow, every time he found himself experiencing how the other half lived, it was a disappointment. Even the canapés were nothing to write home about. Predictable.

Katie, Gordon's official date, had vanished as soon as they'd both felt they'd been seen together enough. It was Rusty's considered opinion that she was exceptionally beautiful and exceptionally in love with the woman she'd come in with. _Her _confidential secretary. Apparently there was some kind of pattern here.

The only consolation, in the midst of tedium, was the amount of ostentatious wealth on display. _That _was always pleasing to look at. Particularly on the guy who screamed at the waitress who brought him the white wine he'd asked for instead of the champagne he'd decided he wanted. Andrew Foster-Smythe. A name to be remembered and investigated later.

Still, on the whole, the party was going from bad to worse, he thought to himself just after the large woman in the virulent green dress and dangly gold earrings had wobbled off, having finished making a series of increasingly desperate and startlingly obscene suggestions to him. He wasn't even sure that the thing with the cucumber, the silk ties, the mentos and the diet coke was even _possible. _He was absolutely certain that he didn't want to try it. And Gordon had gone slightly green. But Rusty had just about managed to keep his head, and after a blinking moment of stunned silence, he had innocently told her that she reminded him a little of his mother, and she had walked off in a confusion of indignation.

"I'm sorry," Gordon said in an undertone as she walked away.

Rusty grinned at him. "I didn't know it was going to be that sort of party."

"Neither did I," Gordon told him, still slightly wide-eyed. "I don't even know who she was."

"You sure she was invited?" Rusty wondered. "She looked kind of like a gatecrasher. A gatecrasher who got in by dressing like a Christmas tree."

Gordon covered his laugh behind his hand. "Thank you for doing this, Leo." He paused for a long moment and glanced suddenly over Rusty's shoulder. As Rusty watched, a look of determination flickered over Gordon's face and he leaned forwards and laid his hand on Rusty's cheek, gazing deeply into Rusty's eyes. "It really means a lot to me."

Rusty didn't move. He waited until Gordon's eyes shifted over his shoulder again and Gordon pulled his hand away quickly and stepped back, looking abashed. "I'm...I'm sorry. I really don't know - "

" - so who was behind me?" Rusty interrupted sharply.

Gordon sighed and looked even more uncomfortable. "Follow me," he said, and he quickly walked past Rusty into the next room. Rusty followed him closely and they stood in the doorway. "My ex," Gordon said softly. "_Don't _look. Please. The tall man by the window."

Rusty smiled at Gordon like he was having the best time of his life and, running his hand through his hair, he scanned the room quickly. Tall man by the window. Handsome. Distinguished. Drinking red wine. Trying to surreptitiously look over at Gordon. Rusty's gaze floated over the top of him and he smiled back at Gordon. "That's why you wanted me here, huh?" he smiled quietly, leading Gordon out of the room again.

"I just..." Gordon sighed. "I just wanted him to see me having a good time. With someone who..." He bit his lip and looked Rusty up and down. "Someone who looks like..."

"I get it," Rusty cut in.

"It's not the only reason I wanted you here," Gordon added quietly, sounding ashamed. "I really do like you, Leo." And Rusty's life would be just a little bit less complicated if he didn't believe that. But he did.

"You wanted to make him jealous." He sighed. Didn't most people stop using that particular tactic once high school was done?

"His name's Christian," Gordon told him, his voice distant. "He's a thoracic surgeon. We used to date. For four years. Up until a month ago. He wanted to move in. Amelia didn't...she said it would reflect badly on her. On both of us. I told Christian that maybe we should lie low for a few months. He wasn't happy...I think you can guess the rest."

He could. He really could. "I'm sorry," he said and it meant it. "You want my opinion though, that was really stupid."

Gordon looked at him sharply and then almost smiled. "I know it was a mistake. Believe me, I know. I didn't want to lose him." He sighed. "Do you think he was looking at all?"

"Oh, he was looking," Rusty assured him. "He was definitely looking."

"It's too late though," Gordon stated gloomily. "It's all over."

Rusty frowned. "Uh huh. Why do you think he came to the party then? It's your house. Your party. He _knew _you'd be here. If everything was really all over, he'd have stayed away. And _he _didn't bring a...bring someone like me along to show off. He wanted to see how you were doing." He thought about the looks that Christian had been shooting Gordon. "He still cares, you ask me," he added.

Gordon chewed on his lip. "But nothing's changed. Amelia would still never agree."

Rusty tilted his head to one side. "You think it's her decision?"

"Look, I know how it looks," Gordon said, staring fiercely at him. "How _she _looks. Everyone thinks she's a golddigger who struck oil. But that's _wrong. _The truth is, she was devoted to my father and she made him very happy in the last years of his life. For the last year he was completely confined to bed and she rarely left his side. I don't _like _her in the slightest, but I think, maybe, I love her a little for that. I can't go out of my way to make her unhappy."

"But that doesn't mean you have to let her make you miserable," Rusty insisted. "You _and _Christian."

Gordon paused. "You really think so?" he said wistfully, obviously hovering around the very edges of a decision.

Rusty hesitated, but everything Gordon had said in the last few days suggested... "Your father wouldn't have wanted you to be unhappy, would he?"

A look of determination crossed Gordon's face. "No. He wouldn't." He took a step towards the door and then came back and shook Rusty's hand firmly. "_Thank _you, Leo," he said, and he strode off towards the ballroom, head held high.

Taken slightly off guard, Rusty followed him and arrived just in time to see Gordon march up to Christian and loudly proclaim "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I love you and I'm not ashamed to admit it, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Huh. Not exactly what he'd been expecting. A lot more public than he'd been expecting.

As he watched, Gordon got down on one knee to a smattering of applause, a slight murmur of disapproval, a louder murmur of "Oh, how_ romantic_," and several shocked gasps.

Rusty glanced across the room to Amelia and, for a moment, consternation and disapprobation warred visibly on her face, and then he caught a moment of vivid amusement, followed by calculation. If he had to guess, he'd say that she was figuring out how to come out of this story in the best light. Oh, well.

Christian pulled Gordon to his feet and into a fierce embrace and a fiercer kiss.

Rusty was conscious of Katie sniffling just behind him and, automatically, he passed her a tissue. Right. Maybe they were closet exhibitionists. Still, Rusty was happy for them, he really was. And, from a more practical standpoint, as the whisper of gossip ran round and people started crowding into the ballroom, there had probably never _been _a more distracting distraction. They'd be as well moving early, seizing the opportunity.

Taking one last glance at the happy couple, he grinned, shook his head, and went to find Danny.

* * *

It was all completely pointless, Danny had decided. He'd spent the last couple of hours carrying fish tanks around the aquarium at Aaron's behest. But Aaron didn't seem to have any _plan. _Half the time he ended up putting the tanks back exactly where he'd found them. _Completely _pointless. The only effect any of this was having was that Danny was completely exhausted and his arms and legs were aching.

"Okay, pick up that big one," Aaron told him, pointing into the corner.

Keeping all his feelings inside, Danny did as he was told. The tank was massive. Even with his arms outstretched he could barely keep a grip on it. Oh, this couldn't be the way these things were supposed to be moved. This was a two-man job if ever there was one. What was more, it was one of the ones that fish-boy had been having _fun _with the other night, and he really didn't even want to touch it. He stepped away from the stand. "Where do you want this?" he asked politely.

"Just stand right there a moment," Aaron told him and he stared at Danny for a long while. "You know, if you dropped that, you'd probably have to work for more than a year to pay it off. The fish themselves cost more money than you see in a month."

He rather doubted that. Though, he supposed, it depended on the month. "I'll be sure not to drop it," he promised lightly.

"_Good," _Aaron breathed softly, and then he stepped closer to Danny – too close, definitely far, far too close – and his eyes were dark and staring.

"What the fuck?" Danny asked uncertainly, trying to twist round enough to put the fish tank back on the stand, trying to get his hands free, but it was too far and Aaron was in the way.

"You would make a good fish," Aaron said, his voice low and lustful, and then he sprang forwards and one of his hands was trailing down Danny's back, feeling and squeezing, and his other hand was running up the inside of Danny's thigh. He leaned forwards, pressing himself against Danny's side, and Danny could feel something hard digging into his hip. "I've seen you looking at me. Asking me questions. Stand still, now, little fish."

* * *

Danny wasn't in the kitchens, which was strange. Too early for him to have decided to go find Rusty, but more than that, one of the other workers told him that Danny had never even been there. Which was stranger.

Rusty stood on the landing, rubbing at his mouth and considered. He supposed it was possible that Danny was still in the zoo. If he'd chosen to stay behind for whatever reason. Failing that, maybe Danny was in their room. If he was planning a change of plans he might have gone up there to think, meaning to meet Rusty later.

Oh, he _hated _not knowing.

He glanced at the stairs, trying to figure where Danny was most likely to be. Up or down, up or down?

* * *

Aaron's hands were firm and persistent and Danny fought to get away. Gave new meaning to taking someone on with both hands tied behind his back. Apparently he couldn't and Aaron had him trapped up against the wall. The fish tank slipped slightly in his hands and it was all he could do to grip it tighter before it fell.

"Careful," Aaron murmured in his ear, and Danny tried to elbow him away, but it just wasn't possible.

This was ridiculous. Absolutely unthinkable. And if he could just drop the fish tank he'd be able to fight back and Aaron wouldn't stand a chance. Trouble was, he didn't _want _to drop the fish tank. Oh, not because of the money. That threat didn't bother him in the slightest. He just kept picturing all the fish lying on the floor, gasping for breath.

Then, Aaron's hand suddenly snaked up to his waistband and started to force its way inside his pants, and Danny prepared to throw the fish tank at his fucking head.

That was when, as he watched, a hand seized Aaron's shoulder, spinning him around, and a punch connected full force with Aaron's jaw, dropping him nicely to the floor.

Danny looked up and Rusty was staring at him, breathing heavily.

"He said I'd make a good fish," Danny said blankly.

* * *

Rusty had arrived to see Aaron's hands all over Danny and Danny trapped between the wall and an infeasibly large fish tank.

Conscious thought had largely taken a back seat. Sheer, naked fury had driven him, and he'd charged forwards, punching Aaron about as hard as he'd ever hit anyone. Aaron was probably unconscious before he'd even felt it.

He looked over at Danny, searching anxiously and he wasn't even exactly sure for what. But Danny seemed okay. Shaken up, but okay.

"He said I'd make a good fish," Danny told him and Rusty could hear the absolute shock in his voice.

"You probably would," he said, stepping backwards and surreptitiously stamping on Aaron's thigh.

Danny noticed. "Rusty..." he scolded, blinking and seeming to come out of it a little.

Rusty shrugged. "Ow," he complained, shaking his hand. He'd cut his knuckles on Aaron's teeth. Catching Danny's anxious look, he stepped forwards and carefully took the fish tank out of Danny's hands. "Here, let me," he said and promptly nearly dropped it. "Thing weighs a _ton," _he complained.

"Believe me, I know," Danny told him dryly. There was a little more life in his face now.

Replacing the fish tank on the stand, Rusty turned back and caught Danny's hand quickly, holding it tightly. "_Danny - "_

Danny smiled softly and squeezed Rusty's fingers gently. "I'm okay, Rus'. Really. He just surprised me."

"Yeah," Rusty nodded, glancing down at Aaron and resisting, with an effort, the urge to go and kick him in the head a few times. "Who'd have thought that fish-boy was the octopus?"

"Are octopuses fish?" Danny wondered aloud.

"They live in the water," Rust pointed out.

"So do whales," Danny answered with a frown.

"Yeah...?" Rusty raised an eyebrow questioningly and Danny hesitated.

"Good point," he conceded. "So did Karl Stromberg."

"_With _someone named Jaws," Rusty pointed out. "Coincidence?"

Danny nodded slowly. "So Karl Stromberg was a fish. Glad we got that sorted out." He frowned slightly. "You're here early!" he said, in apparent sudden realisation, and Rusty didn't like to think about what could have happened if he hadn't been. "Is there - "

" - everyone is well and truly distracted," Rusty assured him.

"So how was the party, Cinderella?" Danny asked with a grin.

Rusty smiled. "Turns out I wasn't Cinderella. I was more of the Fairy Godmother." He regretted his choice of words the moment he spoke. And, judging by the way Danny grinned, the image had been noted, considered and they _would _be returning to it at a later date. He went on hastily. "Gordon's with his Prince Charming now. All he needed was someone to agree with him. Push him forwards."

"Uh huh," Danny was still grinning. Looked like he might be for a while. "Good for you, Sugarplum."

"Think that's a different fairy," Rusty muttered.

Danny wasn't ostensibly listening. He was staring down at Aaron. "So what do we do with him?" he asked.

Rusty thought for a second. "Got an idea. You okay for a moment?" Danny rolled his eyes and Rusty glared at him until he nodded instead. "I'll be right back. If he moves, knock him out again."

Aaron was just beginning to wake up when Rusty reappeared. Well, Danny _thought _he was probably waking up. There was a certain amount of moving around, a certain amount of moaning. Evidently Rusty had hit him pretty hard. Danny thought he might even have dislodged a couple of teeth. And, honestly, he felt pretty comfortable with that.

When Rusty returned he was holding up a couple of bottles of wine triumphantly. Danny grinned approvingly. "I'll hold his head back," he said at once, hauling Aaron upright.

Carefully and methodically, Rusty emptied the majority of the wine down Aaron's throat and they watched as he swallowed happily. Then Rusty poured the rest over Aaron's clothes.

He held up the empty bottle. "Cheap stuff," he announced. "Expensive stuff," he added, placing the unopened bottle just out of Aaron's reach as Danny leaned him back against the fish tank.

They watched him for a moment. Wine-stained, drunk, a stolen, expensive bottle of wine beside him, unconscious at a crime scene – it told a story.

Danny smiled. "Fish?"

"Trolley," Rusty nodded.

Five minutes later and they had the tank containing the platinum dragon fish secured onto a little trolley and they took it down the corridor to the side door.

Rusty hesitated once the door was open. "I've still got to - "

" - go," Danny nodded. "I can take this out to the van on my own."

He could. And he did. The van was exactly where they'd parked it that morning, looking innocent and unobtrusive. And loading the tank into the back was easy enough – well, actually, it was extremely difficult and annoying, but he'd had lots of practice by this point.

Rusty turned up five minutes after the work was done and slid into the drivers seat. "Ready to get out of here?"

"Definitely," he announced, sighing and leaning back wearily in his seat. This really wasn't the best Christmas he'd ever had.

Rusty smiled at him sympathetically and Danny smiled back in spite of himself. Least the company was everything he could ever ask for.

* * *

It had been an odd sort of party on the whole, Gordon thought, staring at the bottle on the table. _Wonderful _but odd.

After all the fuss had died down and he and Christian had finished fielding questions and congratulations, the butler had quietly announced that there'd been a break-in. At the zoo, of all places.

Impossible to tell exactly _what _was missing, largely because Aaron Reid, the man who'd know, had been discovered apparently drunk and dead to the world, beside a bottle of wine he'd stolen from Gordon's wine cellar.

Amelia had immediately declared that he must have left the door open and let the burglars in and had summarily fired him. Gordon couldn't help but notice that a number of the other servants looked relieved at that, and later he'd quietly pulled Tina the housemaid aside and asked why. His lips narrowed at the reason. Apparently Aaron had a reputation for being a bit weird and a bit grabby. Inclined to put his hands where they most certainly did not belong. And the way Tina had spoken she had personal experience. Gordon needed to make certain that people knew, in the future, they could tell him these things.

At any rate, he was happy to go along with Amelia's decision. Even though he knew that it was probably nothing to do with Aaron.

Leo had vanished by the end of the party. Gordon didn't think that was a coincidence. Particularly not when he got up to his room and found a sixty year old bottle of malt sitting on the table, a printed card lying next to it that simply said "Happy Christmas".

He stared at it for a long time and then Christian called him impatiently from the bedroom and he thought about everything he had and everything he might not have if it wasn't for Leo and there was just no way he could be angry.

Boxing Day, he and Christian were going to head out to Aspen for a long weekend. Maybe even a couple of weeks. He had a feeling that, by the time they came back and he talked to the police he might well have forgotten just what Leo looked like.

He smiled and grabbed the bottle and a couple of glasses and went through to enjoy his happily ever after.

* * *

They walked away from Jacques' house, having been thanked a thousand times and wished a very happy Christmas a few thousand more.

"He seemed happy with the fish," Danny said eventually.

Rusty nodded. "Yeah. You feeling paid up now?"

Danny glanced at him. "Doesn't begin to cover it."

"Oh," Rusty said, and they paused, leaning against the wall and staring into Central Park. Somewhere there was music playing and the frost made their breath hang in the air. "You see that jumper Jacques was wearing?" Rusty asked eventually. "The little dancing snowgirls?"

"Don't remind me," Danny grimaced. "I'm going to be imagining him wearing that every time we talk to him from now on."

Rusty laughed slightly. "Mmm. Me too." He stared suddenly into the park. "You see that?" he asked, sounding incredulous and slightly panicked.

Danny squinted into the darkness. He couldn't see any...oh, wait. He could see a pipe band accompanying a choir. Must be where the music was coming from. They were getting closer and he could see they were wearing uniforms. "What?" he asked. "We haven't done anything wrong." Nothing that could be proven, anyway.

"That's the NYPD choir," Rust said levelly. "And they're singing 'Galway Bay'."

Oh. Danny blinked and stared for a long moment. "Well, that's - "

" - yeah," Rusty agreed. "On the other hand, wouldn't - "

" - oh, definitely," he nodded. "You'd pretty much have to."

They laughed and from somewhere behind them a clock started chiming. Midnight.

"Happy Christmas, Rus'," Danny said softly.

"Happy Christmas, Danny," Rusty answered.

"You ready to go home?" he asked, stretching and yawning. "Think we still got some egg nog in the fridge."

In answer, Rusty grinned and pulled a bottle out of his coat pocket. "I got something better," he announced, and Danny leaned in to see another bottle of sixty year-old malt. "Figured I might as well run the Father Ogilvie twice."

"Fantastic," Danny smiled.

Christmas was looking better and better.

* * *

**Like I said. Happy Anything You Like. **


End file.
